


Noontide

by ObscuredTempest



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscuredTempest/pseuds/ObscuredTempest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Familiar routines aren't always so bad. Drabble. Dialogue + narrative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noontide

"Sol! Take this seriously!"  
 _Why bother?_  
The growl that follows is awkward and altogether too young. A child's frustrations.  
"Why b--! Just... Just do!"  
 _Nah._  
"Gh...!"  
 _Careful, Captain. Don't wanna lose yer head 'round the troops._  
A series of muffled chuckles, some more ashamed and quieter than others.  
He knows the kid's starting to unravel; the exploding shock to his right says enough.  
 _That it?_  
Silence from the kid, but blue and white magic throws uniform whites into disarray, funneled into the sword in his right hand.  
 _Y'gotta finish everything, don'cha?_  
"What purpose is there in instigating something you have no intention of completing?!"  
Good question.  
 _Ain't got one. S'fer th' Hell of it._  
"I-- Wh--!"  
Wait for it...  
"That is j--!"  
Just a little more...  
The ball lightning hits him square in the chest.  
There we go.  
Another exploding shock, pain with it, and his vision's full of nothing but endless sky. Not that it really matters all that much, propping his cheek on his palm and peering up at the little livid "captain".  
 _Y'done?_  
"You are the most _infuriating_ human being I have _ever_ had the misfortune of dealing with!"  
Couple of errors in that, but he won't point them out.  
Watching the boy heave and glare and glower and spark is all well and good, but it's when that energy finally dissipates and leaves him looking tired and worn that broad shoulders finally shrug. The world's a blur of stripes.  
 _Could be worse._  
And his own lumbering steps walk him by without another word, a whole head difference in height compared to the leader they've been sent.  
It's not that Sol dislikes the kid any, not really. He's frustrating, annoying, obnoxious, grating, and generally a _kid_ , but he's likeable enough for not being too keen in the social sector (but neither is Sol). Kid knows his way around strategy and tactics and knows how to spark a sense of hope and confidence Sol hasn't seen before. But they've only been in a few skirmishes, and he's not banking on the kid lasting too much longer. Either in terms of rank, or survival. 

Damn shame. Children don't belong in the middle of a war.  
\--

Swords grind together, creating sparks with the friction, and Sol's smirk broadens even as Ky glares. There's electricity in the air, and it isn't just the blond's magic behind it: there's unadulterated thrill, and Sol's come to almost anticipate it whenever they face off, now. It's been seven years since the war ended, and save for the occasional Gear, there's little real excitement to combat any more.

Boy's still persistent as fuck, though. At least he's creeping up to the level of being a challenge. 

"Sol, take this seriously!" They separate with the screech of metal as Thunderseal slides away, Ky finally giving quarter to leap back a few feet and assess. 

"Why bother?" Because igniting Ky's frustrations could only make him easier to read. But he's learned, and Sol sees it in how his stance doesn't tighten, doesn't creep up on the defensive but instead maintains fluidity. Even as he drops out of it.

"Humour me."

"Naaah..." 

They clash again, meeting and dancing and hurling away, spells flying and sending them to meet again until they stand hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, nearly nose to nose with their swords crossed again with Sol's lazy block to one side catching Ky's one-handed downward slash. 

"Might be more fun if you did."

And Sol chuckles.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was an attempt to follow in the style of "Meet Again", but I think it failed. Mmf.


End file.
